"Didn't she look pretty?" commented Dorothy, "I never saw a person change so with—a new outfit."
"Wonder if she found it—in somebody's bag?"
"Tavia!" exclaimed Dorothy, her voice ringing with indignation. "You must never again speak that way of Miss Brooks. We did wrong to suspect her for a moment. She had absolutely nothing to do with the ring."
"Oh, you know all about it, do you? Of course, she says she had absolutely nothing to do with it."
"No, she has said nothing of the kind. The person who really took it—that is, the one who put it in my bag—has admitted doing it."
"Who?"
"Well, you really must not ask, because, Tavia, dear, I know the person was terribly pressed, somehow, and it does not seem right for me to spread the story of her misfortune. I haven't even told Aunt Winnie."
"Oh, of course, you can keep it to yourself if you have a mind to," replied Tavia in injured tones, "but it strikes me that is rather too interesting a story to be so selfish about."
Dorothy made no reply to this charge—she had not the slightest idea of betraying the confidence Miss Dearing had given in her miserable confession.
Further than this, to-morrow Dorothy was determined to go to the city and search for Miss Dearing, even though it would be the day before Christmas.